


in the interest of full exposure

by sizhu



Series: consider everything that grows [5]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Career, First Meetings, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-15 02:42:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14782137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sizhu/pseuds/sizhu
Summary: Viktor Nikiforov meets Katsuki Yuuri in his own gallery, baffled by this cute stranger with a press badge trespassing.Hemayhave forgotten that Chris mentioned a friend covering their gallery's hosting a show. He also may or may not be enamored with Yuuri's sharp tongue.In which Yuuri unintentionally snarks his way into Viktor's heart and Chris is meddlesome.





	in the interest of full exposure

**Author's Note:**

> back at it again with my witty af titles. 
> 
> in the interest of full _disclosure_ , what even are summaries, amirite?
> 
> anyway, please enjoy. While I figure out how to rename this series and the seungchuchu one bc they're sooooo late in terms of the theme/event weeks they were a part of.

The snap of a camera shutter pulled Viktor’s attention from the gallery he’d finished furnishing for the show he was hosting later that night. He blinked and turned to face the camera—and the photographer behind the camera. Furrowing his brows, Viktor crossed his arms over his chest before the photographer could snap another shot.

“And you are…?” Viktor asked, tilting his head. The gallery as it was wasn’t open to the public yet. He’d closed it for the day to prepare for that evening’s showing, so only authorized individuals should be in the building. The photographer didn’t look… Well. Not that Viktor could see his face.

“Oh!” The photographer squeaked out a sheepish laugh. “Sorry, the candid was too tempting. I’m Yuuri, photographer and writer for _Full Exposure_. You’re—uh—Chris? Let me—I have a pass. Well. It’s my pass, but Chris signed off on it.”

Viktor watched the photographer—Yuuri—adjust his camera and lift up the press pass dangling from his neck. He took the pass in his hand, holding it up to read the credentials on it. He sighed, muttering to himself. Of _course_ Chris would let any cute thing walk through the doors—

“Uhm.” The photographer—Yuuri, he reminded himself again—flushed a bright pinkish red.

Shit.

“Did… I say—you heard that?” Viktor asked, hoping his voice didn’t betray any nerves. Of all the times for his brain-to-mouth filter to just. Turn itself off. He should know better than to talk to himself in public.

“You—uh. Did. Yes.” Yuuri rubbed his neck. “Chris… Didn’t _let_ me in, Vik—Mr. Nikiforov. He’s been asking me to cover the show tonight for the last month. He didn’t tell you?”

Viktor fell silent. Chris _might_ have mentioned hiring a photographer to document the event. But he didn’t mention said photographer was also a writer. And he was _sure_ he’d have remembered Chris mentioning hiring someone _cute_. Viktor regarded Yuuri curiously, looking him over once he dropped the press pass. The plastic bounced against Yuuri’s chest before settling still.

“…No,” Viktor said, shifting his gaze to the blond in question. “Chris never mentioned anything of the sort. And please, call me Viktor. ‘Mr. Nikiforov’ makes me sound old.”

Yuuri stared at Viktor for a minute that stretched into eternity. Viktor never felt so… Naked in his life. He swallowed, using all of his professional training to keep himself still. Apparently he’d waited too long to deny Chris telling him about Yuuri, given the photographer’s intense scrutiny. Eventually,

“You forgot, didn’t you?” Yuuri asked, eyebrows arched into his hairline.

Viktor felt like he’d been doused with ice water. He caught Chris’s gaze and, unfortunately, that meant Chris smirking at him and sauntering over to where he was floundering in his conversation with Yuuri. Some unknown feeling clawed at his throat when Chris casually draped an arm over Yuuri’s shoulders and leaned against him—and Yuuri didn’t even seem bothered, like this was a totally normal occurrence. Chris’s smirk only grew and Viktor knew he could see exactly what he was thinking.

“Yuuri, darling, is my brute of a business partner bothering you?” Chris purred, winking at Viktor.

“He said you didn’t tell him I was coming.” Yuuri frowned. He shrugged his shoulder in a halfhearted attempt at dislodging Chris. “I got the trespasser treatment.”

“Viktor!” Chris mock-gasped. “Is that true? Have you been cold and unaccommodating to Yuuri? I told you to play nice when he got here.”

Viktor winced at the call-out. _Here lies Viktor Nikiforov, death by Foot-in-Mouth Syndrome_.

“It’s okay.” Yuuri shrugged. “I can forgive him.”

“What’s the catch, darling?” Chris grinned at Viktor—sharp and predatory, and enjoying Viktor’s suffering _entirely_ too much.

“A paycheck.” Yuuri’s eyes never left Viktor, who swallowed.

“…You weren’t getting paid to cover tonight’s show?” Viktor asked.

“Originally I was doing a favor for Chris,” Yuuri said. “Speaking of, Chris, will you get _off_? You’re not exactly light.”

“Yuuri!” Chris gasped. “Are you calling me fat?”

“No, but you’re leaning all of your weight on me.” Yuuri rolled his eyes.

Viktor, strangely, found himself almost jealous of the easy affection between his friend and this new person. And he’d only just learned Yuuri’s name. He must be losing his goddamn mind. And Chris seemed to know it, too. He winked at Viktor. Yuuri snorted at both of them, pushing Chris off with all force of someone who had known Chris for years and wasn’t afraid to tip him over.

“Alright, then.” Chris grinned. “I’ll leave you two alone to… Negotiate a paycheck. That you wouldn’t have to pay if you’d paid attention to me. Or bothered to remember that one of my _good friends_ was coming today.”

“…Good friend or _good_ friend?” Viktor narrowed his eyes. Fuck if he knew why it bothered him so much.

“Uh.” Yuuri frowned at Viktor. Before he could speak, Chris waved his hand.

“Friend, Viktor. Friend.” Chris cocked head to the side, hands on his hips. “Relax. You kind of look like a guard dog right now.”

“…Chris?” Yuuri blinked between his friend and his friend’s friend. “Can I get to work? I want to hurry up and get the pre-show out of the way so I can finally eat something.”

“Sure!” Chris pat Yuuri on the back. “I take it you overslept and Phichit, bless him, threw you out?”

“Something like that.” Yuuri sighed. “Isn’t he waiting for you right now?”

“He knows I’m always fashionably late.” Chris winked. “I apologize for my friend. He’s normally better behaved than this. I’ve always said you’re too pretty for your own good.”

Yuuri flushed bright red and shoved Chris out the door. Chris laughed the entire way, waving through the glass at Yuuri and Viktor. He put his thumb and pinky to his ear in the ‘ _call me_ ’ gesture, indicating to his friends that he wanted details later. Yuuri rolled his eyes and made a show of turning his back on the blond. Viktor watched all of this with stunned fascination. He scratched his cheek, focusing his attention on Yuuri now.

“I feel like I need to apologize,” Viktor said. “I— didn’t handle our introduction as well as I should have.”

“You didn’t.” Yuuri crossed one arm over his chest, resting his elbow in his hand and his chin in the lifted palm. His lips twitched and his eyes sparkled behind his glasses. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

And yeah, that startled Viktor—given that Yuuri had been… Reserved for most of their interactions. Though some of that was probably Chris. He blinked at Yuuri. It was his turn to flounder. “Uhm.”

“ _Any_ way,” Yuuri said, emphasizing the ‘any’ as if he were embarrassed by his sudden burst of confidence. “Should we get to work?”

* * *

“So what made you decide to go into this?” Viktor asked, gesturing to Yuuri’s camera and his interview notes. They were sitting in the art gallery’s office—or, rather, Viktor’s office, that was a cluttered mess if Yuuri was being completely honest. But he couldn’t complain. He’d gotten some great shots and the interview went smoothly. And he had food.

“I didn’t,” Yuuri said, stuffing a forkful of bad Chinese food into his mouth. After chewing and swallowing, he waved his hand. “I sort of fell into it. I mean, I’ve been writing articles for blogs and small publications for awhile. But when Phichit found out I had an eye for photography, even though I, and I quote, ‘ _have absolutely no selfie-game_ ’, he practically shoved his camera at me. It didn’t take long for me to get my own and start my own online publication.”

“So, you’re something of an entrepreneur, then?”

“Not really, no?” Yuuri tilted his head. “What’s with the twenty questions? You’re not secretly trying to interview me, are you?”

“No!” Viktor blinked. “No, of course not. I’m—I guess I’m trying to make up for being an ass earlier.”

“You already did, though.” Yuuri snorted, stabbing another piece of sesame chicken with his plastic fork. “You paid for lunch.”

“Still—” Viktor frowned.

“Look, Viktor,” Yuuri said, having dropped all sense of formality with Chris’s friend (and he supposed, his friend now). He offered Viktor an amused smile.

“Yuuri—”

“You bought me lunch _after_ I extorted a paycheck out of you. You’ve more than made up for it. And I wouldn’t say you were an _ass_. More like you made an ass _of_ yourself. There _is_ a difference.” Yuuri winked at that, unable to suppress his grin at the blush that crept across Viktor’s cheeks. Oh—oh, the man had _freckles_.

“I—” Viktor swallowed. “Okay. Alright. You win.”

“Hm…” Yuuri looked thoughtful. “That’s a first for me, I think. Oh! I almost forgot.”

“What?” Viktor blinked slowly.

“Would you rather me use a professional tone or a more casual, inviting tone?” Yuuri asked. “For the article—do you want to go for austere or approachable?”

“ _Yuuri,_ ” Viktor whined. “Why are we talking about work at lunch? We’ve talked about my work all day. I want to talk about _you_. Chris has been hiding you from me, hasn’t he?”

“No?” Yuuri arched an eyebrow, lips twitching upward. “I’m just usually busy. I _do_ produce almost all of my own content.”

“Wow!” Viktor clapped his hands together. “Yuuri, that’s so amazing. _You’re_ amazing.”

“I—uh, thanks?” Yuuri flushed, looking away from Viktor’s awe. “You, too. I mean—your gallery is beautiful in a non-invasive way. The show tonight is going to go really well, I think.”

“Would you join me for that?” Viktor asked, perking up. “Come to the show with me, I mean.”

“…Viktor…” Yuuri stared at him incredulously. “I’m going to be there. Like. I’m writing an article, remember?”

“I didn’t mean for work.” Viktor fidgeted with his fingers.

“I know what you meant,” Yuuri said gently. “But I can’t work and be your plus one at the same time?”

Viktor wilted. He opened his mouth to apologize for being presumptuous, but Yuuri just shook his head with a smile. Somehow, he knew it meant that it was fine—that he didn’t have to apologize. He straightened his back, steeling himself. “Then let me treat you to dinner, after. Not as an apology. As a—”

“It’s a date.” Yuuri’s smile widened.

 

 

The gallery showing went without a hitch—it was Viktor’s most successful event yet. And Yuuri’s article would post with an overwhelmingly positive reader response. Of course, it didn’t hurt that Chris had brought Phichit for the official showing and they’d added their own candids of the event to Yuuri’s article.

And dinner?

The best date both Yuuri and Viktor had ever had—

Even if it _did_ turn into a double date with Chris and Phichit.


End file.
